


Smells Like Heaven

by Biosahar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arousal, Drama, Hunting, M/M, Pheromones, Romance, Siren, eye-catching!Sam, heat - Freeform, oxytocin, protective!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biosahar/pseuds/Biosahar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam and Dean kill a siren, Sam gets the beast's blood all over him. The next day he starts experiencing some changes in his body odor resulting on him attracting more attention than needed.</p><p>What will Dean do before this gets out of hand?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They finally caught it.

It took twelve days to track it down. Five more to interview witnesses, call Bobby, dig up leads, only to finally catch its trail back to an abandoned warehouse on the city borders somewhere in south Louisiana. 

It was a siren, one of Sam and Dean’s worst hunts – and they had a long list of those – It took different forms each time it lured out its prey, making the least amount of mess to stay undercover and fool the hunters’ eyes.

Except that this time, it was dealing with the Winchesters, and _nothing_ fools the Winchesters.

A bloodied bronze dagger in hand, Dean was cautiously advancing through the dark empty room, Sam covering his back. This was the creature’s den, they were sure of it. All that was missing was the creature itself.

Creaking sounds on the ground coming from behind announced the monster’s arrival, but the bitch was too quick it had already jumped on Sam’s back, digging its claws on the man’s chest.

“Dean!” Sam shouts, calling for his brother’s help.

“Don’t let it spit that shit in your mouth!” Dean warns, weapon drawn, ready to strike. “Now!”

Signalling his brother with a nod, Sam quickly slipped the siren’s hold and wrapped a strong arm around the beast’s neck, switching their positions. Beautiful and sexy, the siren took form of a cheap hooker to execute its job easily, but they were nowhere near getting fooled, both brothers knew that under that layer of prettiness lied an ugly supernatural piece of shit.

Her pretty blue eyes targeted Dean, she was ready to open her mouth and spit its venom but it was too late. Dean had already shoved the bloody dagger into her neck, splashing blood all over Sam. Loosening his hold, he let the siren slip and fall on the ground motionless.

“Really Dean? The neck?” Sam muttered, bothered by the monster’s blood that splattered over his face, some of it slipping into his mouth, turning his stomach upside down.

Dean’s lips curved into a grin and he silently laughed at his brother’s misfortune. Sam muttered what sounded like a curse and headed back to the car, Dean joined shortly after.

The night has already settled outside. Dean started the Impala and drove them back to the motel. As soon as the room’s door was pushed open, Sam – who had already cleaned his face a hundred times in the car – sprinted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. By the time Dean laid his bag by the bed he could hear the water running in the shower.

Dean slipped out of his shoes and fell on the bed. The son of a bitch took them longer than planned but now that it’s dead nothing was holding him back from diving into a long night sleep. Dean tried keeping himself awake to make sure Sam was alright but tiredness won the fight and he found himself drifting into sleep.

 

 

The heat emerged out of every corner of his vision, engulfing his body, melting through the thin layers of his skin, reaching the nerves that sent atrocious pain through his entire being. A pain so intense he could feel himself drift into emptiness, fall into unconsciousness.

And then he woke up.

Sam was laying in the small bed of the motel room. A room? More like a furnace. Door and windows closed – And they must stay that way because they’re not ready to play peek-a-boo with a ghost or any creepy supernatural creature lurking in the neighbourhood altogether while asleep—the heat was twice as much as it was outside.

Sweat dripping on his forehead all the way down to his neck, throat dry, bladder so full it felt like it’s about to explode, Sam had no other choice but to get up and rush to the bathroom.

He rested a hand on the side of the sink and let the water flow. Splashing his face with cold water helped kicking some sense back into him. He lifted his head to stare at his own reflection. It took long seconds of blankness before his brain could operate normally.

His body was hot inside, but Sam related his state with the summer weather. Nothing unusual.

Ten minutes later, Sam walked out of the bathroom and let his eyes catch sight of the time. The clock showed 3:45 AM. They were supposed to wake up at eight, grab a nice breakfast and look up their next case, but Sam was far too awake to consider sliding back under the sheets.

Dean on the other hand, was sleeping like a baby. Saliva sliding down the corner of his mouth, half of his face buried in the pillow while he had kicked the blanket off his body and spread on the bed like a starfish.

Sam doesn’t remember him stripping down to his boxers before bedtime. It was kind of unusual to see him naked since Dean had long put this policy about _never_ strolling around the room without a minimum of clothes on because it just reminds him of the harsh truth of having to share a motel room with another man – although it’s his brother – _every single day._

But it was hot. So hot that even Dean decided to break his own rule and sleep half naked.

A smile curled up the corner of Sam’s mouth, seeing his brother enjoy his sleep brought peace to his mind. Now that he had long hours to kill before the sunrise, he might as well work through further researches concerning their next case.

Positioned in front of his laptop, Sam spent the next two hours looking up website after website until his eyes grew tired and his stomach started rumbling. Earning his break, he let his back fall against the chair.

Dean was still asleep. He had shifted slightly from his earlier position and punched and kicked the blanket hard enough to send it to the ground. Watching him for long silent minutes, Sam felt quite proud. His big brother was fit. His muscles have developed nicely during the past few years and his shoulders couldn’t get any larger. His height – which was still shorter than Sam’s – was hopefully big enough to attract every girl’s eye, and not to forget about his good looks which Sam spent his entire childhood and teenage years getting jealous over.

“Sam?”

Sam’s eyes jerked back up, cheeks reddening, for a reason or another he felt like a kid caught stealing candy.

Dean was now awake, his half-lid eyes glancing back at him. The heat seemed to have woken him up as well since sweat was dripping down his neck and all the way to his chest.

“It’s 6 AM, Dean, go back to sleep.” Sam says, saving his brother the trouble of asking.

“6 AM?” Dean repeated, pushing himself up with his elbows and throwing his eyes to catch a glance at the clock on the bedside separating his bed from Sam’s. Once he made sure it was indeed six in the morning, Dean let himself fall instantly on the bed, letting out a long grunt of laziness.

“What are you doing up this early?” He asked, his voice low and tired.

“Nothing,” Sam palmed the mouse, double clicked to close all windows displayed on his laptop screen before turning it off. “Research. I couldn’t sleep it off. I can feel my brain cooking with this heat.”

Dean made a noise that Sam understood as agreement and mumbled something like ‘ _Tell me about it’ before_ shifting in bed again. With the light from the laptop’s screen gone and the only light in the room was now the one coming from outside, Sam could barely see his brother anymore.

He switched from his chair to his bed, abandoned his blanket at the bed’s foot and slipped both hands behind his neck as he lied down. Two more hours left and he still couldn’t get any sleep.

With a click, the lamp beside flicked on. Sam looked over catching his brother rolled on his stomach with his hand stretched to the bedside lamp.

“You’re not sleeping?” Dean asked, he looked wide awake.

Sam gave a lazy shrug.

“Too _hot_ ” He said.

Dean’s face shoved against the pillow making his words barely heard, his dark green eyes peeked at his brother.

“Dude, how can you sleep with your clothes on?”

“How can you _not_?” Sam snorted. “I’d rather soak in my sweaty shirt than lie naked. Makes me uncomfortable.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. There were certain things about his brother he could never make sense of. Taking comfort to the next level, he spread legs and arms on the bed like he was trying to reach every corner. Under the lamp’s dim light Sam could clearly see his little brother’s red boxers squeezed around his firm butt. The sight was both pleasing and uncomfortable. 

“Go back to sleep, Sam. I don’t want to hear you bitching about being tired later” Dean’s muffled words were barely heard. Dean has a point. If he didn’t get his sleep tonight god knows when he’ll find the chance next time.

Sam hesitated, stared long minutes at his brother before he turned his body over, facing the other side and whispered “Good night”.

 

 

It was eight in the morning when something hot and suffocating pressed against Sam’s face. Unable to breathe, he brought his hand to pull away the blanket. Dean was standing right at his bed, looking down at him.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart” Dean announced as he threw clothing on Sam’s bed. “Get your ass dressed, we’re catching breakfast in five.”

Sam groaned and hardly dragged himself up and to the bathroom. A toothbrush in his mouth, left arm in his shirt’s sleeve and right arm searching for the other, Sam was doing his best to not make his brother wait.

He was sweaty, so goddamn sweaty he could swear people could smell him from miles away. But he had no time left to take a shower and Dean’s voice was already reaching from the other side of the door.

“Move your ass, Sam, we’re leaving!”

 

 

Ten minutes later Sam and Dean were having breakfast at the local diner. Dean ordered bacon with eggs and a hot cup of coffee on the side while Sam asked for an omelette. The pretty dark-haired waitress flashed a sexy smile at Sam while setting each of the brothers' orders on the table.

“Anything else, sir?” She purred in a soft voice, leaning in a bit over to show her cleavage.

Sam, unaware with what was happening forced a smile and shook naively his head.

“That’ll be all, thanks.”

Dean, watching the scene as it played in front of his eyes, could swear his brother was doing it on purpose, giving him the _‘Look at me I can turn down sexy girls’_ attitude. But after it happened for the third time today, he was starting to grow suspicious.

His eyes on Sam, he could definitely tell something was different about him. His facial skin glowed more than usual and his hair gained volume, looking flawless. The kind of vibe he was giving off screamed sexy and mature. Dean concluded he either got laid or had his share of porn the night before.

“What?” Sam asked, catching his brother’s eyes on him, a piece of omelette between his lips.

“Nothing.” Dean said, swallowing a slice of bacon and washing it down with coffee.

“ _Shit_ , don’t tell me you can smell it.” Sam mumbled, leaning over as if he was telling an embarrassing secret.

“Smell what?”

Sam twitched in his seat, he looked uncomfortable. His eyes rolling from side to side, he whispered even lower.

“Sweat, Dean. I reek of it. I should’ve taken a shower before heading out.”

Dean’s brows pushed together.

“Dude, that’s disgusting.”

“Shut up, you were the one rushing me.” Sam mumbled in annoyance, wishing he could jump under a shower right away.

Before they headed out of the diner, the waitress slipped her number along with the check, eying and winking at Sam’s direction.

 

 

The realization hit Dean later in the day when they were seated inside the Impala driving to the town’s cosiest bar. Sam did emit a strange scent, but it was far from the stink of sweat. At first, Dean thought it was a new perfume Sam bought behind his back which would’ve been a dick move since they usually share their things, but now that they were cramped inside the small space of the car, Dean realized it was something else.

“Alright, what’s your secret?” Dean asks, turning down the volume of the radio playing Led Zeppelin’s _Stairway to heaven._

“What are you talking about?” Sam was resting his head back, eyes on his brother.

“Was it the sexy nerd in glasses, or was it the supermarket chick we ran into last night and was practically eye-fucking you?”

Dean’s words made no sense to Sam whose expression changed once he understood what his brother was getting at.

“You think I got laid?” Sam said all of a sudden, getting right to the point. “Dean, should I remind you I was the one glued to the laptop searching information for the case all night long while you were out screwing around?”

“Then what the hell, man?” Dean directed a brief glare towards him. “What’s with the smell?”

“I told you! It’s sweat!”

But Dean was nowhere near buying it. There was no fucking way his brother’s sweat smelled like sex and candy. He almost felt violated for having to inhale that sweet aroma every time he takes a breath.

That smell was familiar, though. It reminded him of something. Something like –  

 _Oh shit_.

“ _Pheromones_!” Dean shouted as if he found out of a horrible secret. “You’re reeking of _fucking_ pheromones! Oh god, I can’t believe this.”

“What? No way!” Sam protests, refusing to believe him, but Dean was already reaching for the window, turning it all the way down and letting the wind rush in, warm and strong, blowing right into their faces.

“Jesus, Sam, when was the last time you got laid?” Dean asked the question as if his life depended on it. “And don’t give me that _‘I don’t remember’_ crap.”

“There’s no way I’m telling you that!” Sam says, feeling intimidated by the question, but giving it a long second thought, he decided to answer anyway. “A couple months. Look, I _really_ don’t remember.”

“But you, you know, take care of it yourself, right?” Dean quickly asked, making a swift movement with his hand. “ _Right_?” He repeated, eyes sitting on his brother who instantly averted his gaze out of the window.

The long silence that followed was an answer on its own.

Dean managed to make Sam feel all kinds of guilty. It’s not his fault he didn’t get the chance to release some steam without fearing his brother would barge into the motel room with no warning. Between that and the fact that he was loaded with researches of all kind, Sam had no other choice but to keep postponing it.

Hands on the wheel, Dean gave the brakes a dry stomp resulting on them bouncing back and forth before halting by the side of the pavement.

“Get out” He said.

“Ha-ha. Funny.” Sam forced a laugh. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“I’m not walking into a bar with my little brother smelling like some cheap whore during foreplay,” Dean sounded serious when he forwarded a sharp gaze towards Sam.

“What the hell are you talking about? How many times do I have to tell you, it’s sweat Dean, _Sweat_!”

Sam was starting to lose his temper with his brother’s accusations. There was no single way he would be emitting pheromones even though he hasn’t been, well, _touching_ himself. But Dean’s insistence was pushing him over the edge, so Sam was starting to have second thoughts.

Unless—

“Oh shit, I think I get it” Sam rose up without a warning and out of the car, slamming the door shut and saying “I need to look up something. I’ll catch up with you later!” before running down the street on the opposite direction.

Dean who was barely holding his breath exhaled loudly once Sam walked off, waving his hand in the air to get rid of the rest of the smell his brother left behind.

 

Few hours later, Dean was sitting on a stool by the bar counter while going through his third shot of tequila. His eyes were flirting with the blonde woman with red lipstick and skinny jeans who winked his way each time their eyes met. His last conquest goes back to a week and a half ago, and today his hormones – So blaming Sam for it – were raging and he needed to let some steam off.

“Another one” Dean ordered.

With a quick nod, the bartender pulled out a bottle and filled Dean’s glass for the fourth time. After staring at the liquid like it was the best day reward, Dean emptied the glass in a short second and exhaled in enjoyment.

Dean drew in some fresh air into his lungs and a sweet scent rushed up his nostrils. A very attractive scent. Heavenly. Something like perfume, or maybe deodorant, or maybe pheromones.

Or maybe just Sam sitting next to him.

“Hey.”

Sam was wearing one of those dorky smiles of his. He had taken a sit beside Dean and leaned over the counter.

“The hell are you doing here?” Dean instantly replied, looking right and left in case someone noticed his brother’s entrance. “You can’t come in here, dude, it’s not safe!”

“Relax, I’m fine. I couldn’t reach your phone so I figured you were still here.” Sam says, waving a hand to the bartender. “One coke, please.”

“What do you mean you’re fine? You’re still stinking of that smell. _Oh fuck me_.” Dean brought a quick hand to his nose. “It’s gotten worse.”

“I was in the Library, I made some researches.” Sam explained, quickly grabbing the can of soda and thanking the bartender who kept glancing his way for the rest of his shift. “What you’re smelling is due to the oxytocin hormone that runs in the siren’s blood, you know, the one it uses to lure its victims with? In case you forgot, thanks to you I got it all over my face last night, some even got into my mouth.”

Sam stopped for a second, trying to erase the memory of its horrible taste.

“So you’re saying you have some in you, like, right now?” Dean concluded in disgust. “Ugh.”

The news sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. The more he thought about it the stronger the smell would get. In short minutes he was already submerged in that sweet aroma his brother was giving off and he had to jump-change seats, putting a two-stool distance between him and Sam.

“Dean?” Sam called, lips pressed together trying to hold back his laughter.

“Stay away from me, Sammy” Dean warned, ordering a fifth glass of tequila to drown down his misfortune.

Why did it have to be him? Why not some sexy girl? Like the red-lipstick blonde who’s been eying him for an hour now. He would definitely pull an all-nighter doing her hard if in addition to that sexy ass and full chest, she smelled the way Sam did.

But no, it had to be his brother. His plain, gigantic, dork of a little brother.

_Fuck me._

“Hey, it’s all right,” Sam cheered. “I read it doesn’t last long. It wears off in a couple days.”

“Oh it better does.” Dean grunted.  

Dean exhaled loudly and lifted up his head to order another glass, but the bartender seemed too busy eying Sam to notice him. Dean slammed his hand on the counter and threw him a glare, and the bartender quickly apologized, serving him a quick glass.

When he took the chance and eyed the bar one more time, Dean noticed all of the girls and almost half of the guys were eying Sam while the man in question drank innocently his coke, complaining about how warm it is.

Dean’s stomach gave a burning sensation – justifying it with the amount of alcohol he shoved down his throat in a row – and he stood up, grabbed Sam by the elbow and drove him out of the bar.

“What the hell, Dean? I didn’t even finish my drink!” Sam protests, frowning at his brother and waiting for some kind of explanation. Dean was driving him far from the bar area, Sam had to escape his grip and stop to face him. “Hey!”

“You’re reeking Sam,” Dean growled in an unpleasant tone, sparing him the trouble of complaining. “You better get the fuck out of here before you get gangbanged by those assholes inside.”

Sam blinked at his brother who was still pushing him as far from people as possible. Dean looked seriously pissed and he wouldn’t withdraw his hand from under his nose. Sam understood he was having a hard time inhaling the scent he was emitting.

“What is it like?” Sam asked with wide eyes, leaning over and glancing at his brother who stood inches away from him. “Does it… like, does it make you—”

“Really now, Sam? You’re going to ask that?” Dean interrupted, his voice holding an unpleasant tone. His eyebrows were pressed towards the middle of his forehead, and anyone who looked at him would realize he was annoyed at the entire world.

“Hey, I’m just curious.” Sam said, raising his hands in the air.  

Dean shoved his brother away from him and took a few steps back.

“Well I hope you’re curious enough to drag your ass back to the library and search for a solution or you’re sleeping in the car tonight.”

“Dean!”

Sam’s puppy eyes weren’t near working on his brother this time. Dean had already turned his back to him and returned to the bar.

Sam ran his long fingers through his hair and sniffed his own clothes, but nothing reached his nose. The smell Dean kept talking about was right there and it was turning his brother away from him.

Reconsidering Dean’s words he took the long road back home and spent the rest of the night looking up a solution.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours passed by and by the time Dean returned back to the motel room the night had settled down. The weather was still hot, and Dean blamed it on the dry summer.

Few minutes ago he was making out in an alleyway with the hot blonde in red lipstick. He had three more beers after his six tequila shots and later breasts – the biggest he has touched so far – cupped in his hands while he made his way down the girl’s neck.

He inhaled the scent of her body which smelled of coconut butter and wine. She was fresh and delicious, hygienic too, just the way Dean likes them. The foreplay was cut short after Dean pulled away from her neck and glanced at her eye-lined eyes and bright red lips that moaned his name every time he touched the right spots.

As good as this was, Dean wasn’t fully satisfied. Something was missing, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

The next thing he remembers is stumbling and falling over the Impala’s hood and deciding it was a bad idea to drive in his drunken state.

Back to the motel room, Dean didn’t look twice before making it to the bathroom. The water kicked some sense back into him, cold and refreshing. Showers were always the best idea in this heat.

A towel around the neck, drying his wet hair, Dean walked back into the room looking for his brother.

Sam was lying in bed half-naked – at least he had gotten rid of his pair of jeans this time – he had his laptop on his thighs and his head thrown back against the headboard. Dean wondered how he could manage falling asleep in such uncomfortable positions.

Feeling generous for once, he put the laptop away. Apparently, Sam fell asleep searching up _‘ways to get rid of siren blood’_. Dean felt a hint of regret for being hard on him earlier. After all, it’s his fault Sam ended up with oxy-whatever-that-thing-is-called in his system.

Now that he thinks of it, since he walked in the room he hadn’t smelled any funny odours. Maybe Sam _did_ find a way to get rid of those overflowing hormones.

Happy with his conclusion, Dean stripped off to his boxers and slid under the sheets.

 

The next morning, Dean woke up to an empty room. Sam returned on time to catch his brother out of the bathroom, a towel in hand.

“I got us breakfast.” Sam cheerfully announced.

Pancakes, bacon and cheese and a hot cup of coffee, if there was anything Sam was getting good at, it’s remembering what his brother’s favourite meals are, and by that it means anything with bacon and cheese in it.

Cup of coffee in hand, Sam was scrolling down the news website for any clues concerning a potential case. A ghost disturbance in South Dakota was probably worth the investigation but he first needs to look further into it.

Dean was sitting across from him, reading one of the books Sam borrowed from the library while sipping his coffee.

“Find anything?” Dean asked.

“Nothing eye-catching,” Sam said. “Some easy ghosts here and there, called a couple local hunters to take care of them.”

Since he woke up this morning, Dean hasn’t made any strange complains about the way he smelled. Sam thought it was because he was fresh out of a shower and even took the time last night to _take care of himself._

“Something on my face?” Dean asked, catching Sam staring at him.

“So, um, I was wondering, “Sam brought up, pushing himself back against the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “About, you know, the smell...”

“It’s gone.”

“It’s gone?”

“Smells like fresh summer air. Hallelujah.” Dean sarcastically grinned. “It was about damn time. You reeked, man.”

Sam frowned.

“Hey, it’s your fault in the first place, remember?”

Dean waved him off.

“Whatever.”

“So, what was it like?” Sam asked, leaning further against the table. Dean threw him a glare and Sam shrugged. “Dude, come on, you can at least tell me. It’s not like we don’t tell each other worse.”

Dean’s eyes escaped towards his book then back to his brother. Sam was still staring, eyes filled with hints of curiosity.

“Fine, if that’ll shut you up for good.” Dean growled, closing his book and throwing it on the bed. He went through a way to formulate the sentence in his mind then opened his mouth to explain.

“Have you ever wanted to fuck a girl so hard you have no idea why?”

Sam took a moment to reflect on his brother’s question, he then nodded.

“I guess so, yeah.”

Dean lifted up his hands in the air and flashed a smirk.

“Well congrats, Sammy, you were caught under the magic spell of pheromones.”

Sam blinked in bewilderment trying to understand his brother’s point.

“So you’re saying you feel like you want to fuck me but you have no idea why?” Sam concluded with a neutral face, his eyes holding interest in the matter. Dean’s glare rested on him for a long second. He looked _so very_ unamused.

“Sam?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do me a favour and shove one right into your face, ‘cause that ain’t even funny.”

Sam kept pushing for further explanation but Dean had made it clear he’d _seriously_ punch him if he brought up the topic again.

Later in the afternoon, Sam and Dean caught lunch in a small family restaurant nearby, then drove to a bar for a couple drinks. Sam insisted on buying the newspapers in case there could be any supernatural disturbance in the local area.

This entire time Dean’s protective big-brother attitude was kicking in. He carried on scanning the areas for any unusual behaviours, making sure that people acted normally around Sam, proving the point that the scent was truly gone. He came later to the conclusion that with or without the overflowing odour, Sam was annoyingly eye-catching.

“What can I get for you?” The pretty woman behind the bar counter asked. Dean took a seat and was soon joined by Sam, newspaper in hands. From the look of it, he hasn’t found anything interesting to notify.

“Cold beer and…” Dean looked over at his brother who answered without lifting up his eyes from the papers.

“Same,” He said.

“You sure?” Dean asks, narrowing his eyes. “Or did I just mishear coke?”

“I said _same_.” Sam insisted, his eyebrows joining for a frown.

“Two cold beers that is.” Dean said, eyes rolling towards his brother once the bartender left. “Seriously, Sam? Aren’t you too old for sulking?”

Sam’s eyes were glued to the papers. Since they have left the room this morning he had been acting this way. Whenever Dean would ask him what was wrong Sam would try to bring up the topic from earlier and Dean would instantly shut him down.

“Gonna give me the silent treatment, huh? Fine. Have it your way.” Dean shrugged and pressed his lips against the beer bottle, drinking right out of it. If Sam didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t going to force him.

His eyes scanned the bar briefly for some eye candy. They ended up setting right on two girls occupying a seat by the window, pretty face and shoulder-long hair, the first one had a black dress on with a plunging neckline that enhanced her silhouette greatly. Her company was a mature-looking woman, sexy glasses and a white shirt on with the first two buttons left undone. Dean suggested he’d hook Sam up with the blonde one, after all he did need it.

Caught staring, the girl smiled at Dean and stood up to walk to the counter. She ordered two cocktails and was soon joined by her friend as they both found their place around the stools not so far from Sam and Dean.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean called. “What do you think?”

Sam lifted up his eyes from behind the newspaper to catch his brother staring intensely at the two women to his right. He took a deep breath and let out the most disappointed sigh.

“Really, Dean?”

“You didn’t get laid in months, dude. Don’t you think it’s about time you did something about it?” Dean insists, eyes going back and forth between him and the girls behind his shoulder.

Sam exhaled loudly _again_. He folded the newspaper, finished his beer and stood up.

“I’m heading back to the motel first,” He announced.

Dean pulled up a confused face watching Sam walk out of the bar, the door closing behind him.

“The hell?”

 

Back in the motel room, Sam abandoned the newspaper on the table and let his body fall on the bed.

He was in an edgy mood today and kind of felt bad for letting it out on Dean. Although a part of him did agree that this whole _‘big brother helping little brother getting laid’_ was getting on his nerves.

Dean knew Sam wasn’t the kind of guy to hook up with the first girl he meets, for Sam it needs more than just appearances. It needs a connection, something deeper that’ll leave a lingering feeling in his stomach for him to get involved.

 _“You’re too vanilla.”_ Dean told Sam each time he tries to explain why since Jess he hasn’t been playing around much.

“It’s just not enough” Sam sighs, his voice resonating in the empty room.

He closed his eyes for a couple seconds, his ears catching the sound of the clock ticking. He wondered if Dean was flirting with the girls right now, buying them drinks and telling them about how awesome of a big brother he is – Yes, because he loves to remind himself of that and also for some strange reason girls seem to swoon at the thought of a man caring for his younger sibling – Either way, Dean was probably going to end up with a threesome tonight and he’s more likely to return late, or not until tomorrow morning.

For a second, Sam wondered if he shouldn’t have gone along with his brother’s plan. They would probably end up each leaving with a girl or maybe even suggest a foursome. The girls would invite them over to their place and they’ll start undressing at the door. Dean would go first – knowing how impatient he is – and start making out with one of the girls – the dark-haired one Sam guessed – and then one thing will lead to another and they will all be sharing the heat on the bed. The pleasure would be so intense that it would shoot Sam’s hesitance to the back of his mind and he’ll carry on having the best orgasm of his life.

Sam’s eyes shot open. He can’t believe he just imagined what having a foursome with his brother would be like.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his thoughts. His mind might try to ignore it but his lower body wasn’t ready to let this one slide.

Sam shifted in bed, decided to resist the urge to slide his hands under his pants and sleep instead.

 

 

It wasn’t until two in the morning that Sam heard the door open. Dean made his way quietly inside, rustling sounds of hung jackets and taken off shoes were heard along with a loud bang. Sam realised his brother had thrown himself on the bed.

“You asleep, Sammy?”

Sam growled internally. He was still mad at him. Yes, he was the one who chose to walk away from his brother’s hook-up suggestion, but it doesn’t deny the fact that Dean was being a jerk for shutting him down the entire morning.

The silence was an answer on itself, Sam’s way to say _leave me alone I’m trying to sleep._ Dean didn’t say anything for the next couple minutes and Sam concluded he got the message.

Then Sam heard shifting sounds coming from Dean’s bed. Sam closed his eyes, trying to not picture his brother stripping out of his clothes – although the idea was strongly tempting. But then Sam’s bed dipped and Dean’s presence was right behind him.

“Sam. Sammy wake up.” Dean called, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and slowly shaking him.

“Dean?” He mumbled, finally opening his eyes to catch a glance of his brother sitting on the side of his bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Dude, that’s my question. You’re burning hot. You all right?”

Sam sat up, brushing the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He was feverish and now that Dean mentioned it something weird was going on with him. His stomach was warm, almost like he just swallowed hot soup. His heart was beating fast and his sweat was abundant.

“I don’t know. I feel funny.”

When he looked over, Dean looked different from usual. He smelled of booze and testosterones – probably due to the sex he just had – Sam felt his cheeks burning red at the sight of his brother’s naked chest going up and down as he breathed slowly, droplets of sweat sliding down his neck to find their way to his stomach.

Looking up, Sam caught Dean’s gaze on him as well. His eyes were on Sam’s body, they were full of intensity and hunger.

Sam felt his erection throb underneath his pants, so painful and close to release. His head went foggy and his inner temperature rose, bringing him to sweat even more. His body moved on its own and before he knew it he was leaning forwards, his lips almost brushing against Dean’s. But Dean was fast and he pushed himself away on time, standing up by the bed.

“Dean, sorry that was –“

Sam’s voice was raw and his lungs were stripped out of air. Only then the realisation hit him.

 _Fuck_ , it’s back again.

He could tell his own pheromones were flowing in the air from the look on his brother’s face. Dean had brought his hand to his nose and jumped over to open the windows.

“Dean?”

“I, uh, I’ll go take a shower.”

Dean escaped the scene as fast as possible, leaving a guilty Sam on the bed.

Fifteen minutes alone in the room wasn’t long enough for Sam to calm down. Aside from the undesirable bulge that formed underneath his jeans, his heartbeats grew as loud as drums, and he wished he knew what to do about it. For a second back there he was about to kiss Dean and the desire was strong and genuine.

 _I was just sexually frustrated, that’s all, and Dean happened to be the only person in the room._ Sam was convincing himself it wasn’t his fault but the pheromones’ for taking him by surprise.

He thought they were gone, but what the hell?

Five more minutes and Dean finally decided to come out. He faked wet hair although Sam knew he hadn’t showered – he hasn’t heard a single drop of water coming from the bathroom.

“What are you doing? Go back to sleep.” Dean’s words were spoken faster than Sam’s mouth opening.

He knew Dean wasn’t ready to talk about this, not right now.

 “The scent. It’s back, isn’t it?” Sam asked anyway, his voice holding a hint of regret. “I’m sorry Dean, it’s… it’s my fault.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Dean said after a while. “It’s not like you do it on purpose, either. I bet you can’t even tell when you give it off.”

Sam shook his head in agreement. He then looked up at his brother who was still standing feet away from him. “Should I sleep in the car?”

Dean raised an eyebrow and snorted in disbelief. “No way. You stay here.” He picked up his jacket and walked to the door. “I left the Impala parked near the bar and I was thinking of having a walk, anyway.”

Of course it was a lie, Dean was exhausted and it was seen all over his face. It only worsened the feeling of guilt Sam was holding inside.

“Good night, Sam.”

Sam watched his brother’s back disappear behind the door before the room went quiet.

That night he couldn’t fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Dean woke up to the sound of knocking on his car’s window. He was lying in the backseat, knees and neck slightly curled up to fit, head resting on the curve of his arm.

The knocking sent loud painful throbbing to his head. He opened his eyes to catch Sam’s nose pressed against the window and a hand curved over his forehead trying to catch sight of the insides of the car.

For the second time this week, Dean woke up cursing his hangover. The car’s door was unlocked and Sam quickly opened it.

“Hey,” He said with a stretched smile. “Slept well?”

Dean flipped on his back and groaned at the back pain kicking in.

“Like a baby,” He said with sarcasm, eyes rolling to the side. “A baby kicked in the joints.”

Sam laughed full-heartedly at the answer.

“Got me breakfast?” He asked at the sight of a bag in his brother’s hand.

Sam took a place in the passenger seat and handed over the bag.

“Donuts and coffee. The usual.”

Dean’s stomach made a happy noise at the sight of food, and not any food, his favourite. He took a bite of the glazed chocolate donut, and gave a muffled “Thanks” before holding the cup of hot coffee Sam was offering.

Dean carried on groaning in appreciation each time he took a bite and washed it down with coffee. Sam’s eyes were locked on him, not showing any particular expression, just staring at him with his usual neutral face.

“What?”

“It’s gone.” He said.

“It’s gone?” Dean asks, not sure he was following.

“Yep. For now.” Sam insists, giving his brother a nod. “You were right.”

Dean paused and then asked.

“About what?”

“The whole getting laid thing. I made some researches and it turns out the siren blood strongly relates on the person’s sexual drive. When a person doesn’t, uh, relieve themselves they start emitting that kind of smell to attract whomever’s around them. It’s like some basic instinct thing going on. So…” Sam cleared his voice, eyes glancing away. “I thought, you know, doing it alone was enough but turns out it only lasted a couple hours before it backfired.”

Dean muttered TMI. He paused for a bit and dug a bit deeper. “So how come you smell all flowers and sunshine now?”

Sam nodded, this time with a wide smile on his face. “Well I called that waitress last night, you remember, the one from the diner?”

With his headache, it took Dean longer than it should to remember the diner waitress who slipped her number along with the check and added a _Call me_ on the back.

“At 2 AM?” Dean asked the first question that popped into his mind. Sam nodded in response.

“In our motel room?” Dean asked again, his eyes narrowing at his brother who shrugged.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Sam protested. “It’s either that or you keeping your distance and I don’t think I can handle you sitting two stools away from me each time we walk into a bar.”

Dean rolled his eyes indifferently ignoring his brother and biting on the second donut, this one peanut butter and Kreme flavoured. Het let out a groan. It tasted heavenly.

Dean switched to the driver seat and discussed the next case which Sam ended up tracing online this morning. Apparently something in St Johns in east Arizona has been murdering the locals and it was no serial killer – although sometimes they wish it was since it’ll make their life hell of a lot easier – No details or answers to how’s and why’s were given but Sam was ready to take the case on a heartbeat.

Five hours into the road, Sam suggested to take the wheel for the rest couple hours but Dean strictly rejected the offer.

“You broke two family rules in two days, you don’t get to drive for a month.” Dean said after Sam pulled his last but ineffective weapon: the puppy-eyes.

“Family rules?” Sam repeats, clearly on sulking mode. 

Dean frowned and stole a quick glance his way.

“Sex in our room” He says, eyes back on the road. Sam instantly rolled his eyes, Dean could read ‘Not again’ written all over his face.

“You know I didn’t have a choice, Jesus, Dean,” Sam sounded exhausted for having to repeat himself. “I can’t just call a woman I barely know at two in the morning and ask to drop by, that’s insane.”

Dean shrugged, mumbling ‘Not my problem’ and taking a right at the next crossroads. They were three hundred miles away from destination.

“What’s the other rule?” Sam asked after few minutes of silence.

“Well,” Dean licked his lips and flicked his eyes back on his brother. “Letting your brother sleep in the car.”

“About that,” Sam says, his eyes rushed to gaze outside the window. “I’m sorry, okay? A-And it’s not like you don’t break family rules all the time.”

“I do? No way.” Dean snorted. “Big brothers make rules, little brothers break them.”

“Is that what you think?” Sam quickly responds, gazing at his brother a smirk on his lips. “Then what do you call jumping on your sleepy little brother and running away to the bathroom without giving a proper excuse?”

Sam’s words caught Dean by surprise. The horrified look on his face made Sam wonder if he was indeed buying it. Because we all know it was Sam and not Dean who was about to throw himself on his brother if he didn’t move away in time.

“We’re not talking about this!” Dean growls, looking away. Sam found his reaction interesting.

“Oh we are, Dean,” He insists. “It might’ve been the pheromones or so you might tell yourself, but you did just fine back at the bar.”

“Sam!” Dean calls, his eyes screaming _End of conversation_. Sam ignores it and keeps pushing even further.

“I understand Dean. Maybe you’re just as sexually frustrated as I am, after all,” Sam concludes, eyes straight ahead on the road, enjoying having the upper hand for once. “I mean, did you see the look in your eyes? Man, you scared the shit out of me! For a second there, I thought—“

“Enough!”

Dean’s shout was followed by an unannounced stomp on the car brakes. The Impala made a loud noise and halted on the side of the road. Sam’s mouth shut close immediately.

“One word, Sam,” Dean took a short breath. “One more word and I swear to fucking god I’m leaving your ass in the middle of the road, and good luck catching up three hundred miles on foot.”

Sam has never seen Dean so worked up before, not over something so trivial, somehow it scared him a bit. He only intended to make a joke out of what happened but Dean didn’t seem to see it that way.

 _Maybe Dean thinks what he’s done is wrong_ Sam thought as the Impala drove off the side of the road and along the highway. But Sam was okay with it, it’s not like anything was going to happen anyway.

_Unless something was going to happen._

Sam was startled by his own thoughts, his heartbeats went faster the more he thought of the possibilities of things that might have happened if Dean didn’t get away from him on time.

Few hours later, Sam fell asleep in the car, his head pressed against the window. He woke up to the sound of the door slamming shut and Dean pushing a plastic bag of food under his nose.

“Cheese and chicken sandwich.” Dean said. “Don’t complain, it’s all I could find.”

Sam wasn’t about to complain anyway, he was hungry and he could eat anything at this point. Dean pulled two cokes out of the bag and handed one over before starting the car engine.

“You’re not eating?” Sam asks, teeth sinking into his sandwich.

Dean gave a small nod upwards and mumbled “Later”

The car drove off the gas station and quietly along the highway, Dean was silent and Sam took the last bite of his sandwich before he chugged down the rest of his coke.

Quiet road trips were nothing unusual, they sometimes had nothing to talk about or simply chose to not meddle with the each other’s thoughts.

But this silence was different. It was the kind that screamed _I have a lot to tell you but I’m just going to keep it for myself_ and it never led to anything good.

The following hours passed slowly by as Sam and Dean arrived exhausted at the first motel of the town. Dean fetched the key from the lobby while Sam picked up their bags from the car trunk and met him in the room.

First thing they had in mind after a long day of driving: Sleep. Dean had eaten some leftover donuts and went to bed at 7 PM leaving Sam stuck with the researches behind his laptop. Two hours later he woke up to the room empty, Sam was gone.

Dean would’ve preferred if Sam could write a note or tell him whenever he leaves somewhere. It would save him the trouble of having to go through all kind of creepy scenarios every time he wakes up to him gone.

Having to play the role of a big brother wasn’t always easy. He did enjoy it sometimes, finding pleasure in ordering Sam around, proving he was right or win an argument just because he was older, but sometimes it weighed down on him. It becomes difficult to care this much for your little brother and have to keep an eye on him twenty-seven, lose patience when he does something stupid and explode with rage each time he gets hurt.

Sam became so important to him to the point that if he hurts him it’s as if he hurt a part of himself.

_Did you see the look in your eyes? Man, you scared the shit out of me!_

Sam’s words replayed in the back of his mind. It sent waves of guilt to his chest. He couldn’t believe he let it happen. He let Sam see that twisted part of him. He made Sam fear him, and that’s the worst in his long list of nightmares – and you can already imagine how many of those he has.

After Dean’s shower, Sam was back. He was seated on a chair and was going through one of the dozen books on the table he probably fetched – or stolen – from the local library. 

“Where were you?” Dean asks as soon as he comes out.

Sam lifted up the book in his hand.

“Library. Apparently what we’re chasing is no ghost so we have to dig it out ourselves.” 

“Did you try Bobby?”

Sam shook his head.

“Called him. He doesn’t know what we’re dealing with either, he said he’ll be doing his own part of research. Mind giving me a hand with these?”

Sam threw one of the books over to Dean and carried on reading the one between his hands.

Dean took a seat on the bed and opened the book on page one. In just an hour he went through two other books and was starting to yawn in boredom. Head growing heavy, he let himself rest against the headboard, deciding he deserved a small break.

He flicked his eyes to glance at his brother sitting on the other side of the small crappy room, Sam’s head was plunged in the book in hand.

The weather was hot, less hot than the week before of course but hot enough for Sam to dig into his bag and snatch one of his most unused shirts. It was a white soft fabric and small enough to squeeze around Sam’s muscles, enhancing the form of his biceps and chest. The sight was so distracting that Dean couldn’t bring himself to focus back on the book.

“Find anything?” Sam asks suddenly, lifting up his head to catch Dean staring. Dean mindlessly looked away.

“All I’ve been reading we either already know or it’s useless information.” Dean mumbles, eyes back on the book page. “Can’t believe we gotta waste our time reading all of these.”

A moment of silence set in the room and Dean finally looked up to find that Sam’s eyes were still on him.

“Dean, you okay?”

Dean narrowed his eyes and shut the book to put it aside.

“And there goes Sam’s famous line to start any kind of argument.” Dean scoffed.

“Don’t be mean.” Sam frowned. Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled a _Whatever_. “Look, I just…” Sam took a short breath and continued. “About earlier…”

“Goddammit, not that topic again.” Dean exhaled loudly and pushed himself off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks, watching his brother reach for his jacket and approach the door.

“Grabbing a drink. Fucking need it, man.” Dean answers, hand on the door handle.

He turned back to give his brother one last glance. Sam’s frown turned into a glare and Dean realized he went too far.

“You’re coming or what?” He rolled his eyes and asked. Sam’s expression loosened and he didn’t hesitate to nod and drop whatever he was doing to grab his jacket and tag after his brother.

The fresh wind outside was enough to calm Dean down. He felt all kind of bad for shutting his brother down, not even giving him the chance to speak, but it was the easiest way to stop that discussion from happening. As an apology, he offered to buy him a drink.

It was always refreshing to see Sam’s smile after a fight. It appeased him deep down and made him think twice before lashing his anger out on him. But Sam wasn’t an angel either – and even angels were dicks so that probably explains why– and he knew how to push the right buttons to get Dean all fired up.

Feeling better after their shots of whisky, Sam and Dean’s mood improved. Sam was soon smiling like a dork and Dean remembered how bad his brother was at handling alcohol. He stopped him after his third shot and had to hear him growl underneath his breath for the next hour.

“Dude, you okay?”

Sam was leaning on the palm of his hand, staring blankly ahead. Dean elbowed his side and watched him jerk his head off, startled.

“Dude!”

“Sorry, what was that?” Sam blinks in surprise, showing another one of his stupidly adorable smiles.

Dean noticed his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. His pink lips were slightly parted, soft and tempting. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state reminded Dean of the other night when he was caught off-guard by Sam’s pheromones. What scared Dean the most was that with or without the oxytocin in his brother’s blood Sam’s body was strongly tempting and he didn’t know what to do with that realization in mind.

Dean’s stomach started feeling funny –So blaming the whisky shots _again_. Quickly, he swung his legs to the side and stood up.

“I’m grabbing you some water, stay still.” Dean said before escaping to the bar counter.

Dean drowned a quick glass of whisky at the counter and took his time. He needed to take a break from Sam before this gets out of hand.

Dean was reminiscing last night’s events, after he left the motel and curled up in the car he couldn’t fall asleep. His mind was too busy thinking about the things he could’ve done to Sam if he didn’t cling to that last piece of self-control and pushed back on time. And Sam, Sam looked so helpless and he would’ve certainly went along with it, with whatever Dean wanted to do to him. Things Dean has never thought of doing to anyone else before.

Dean took a long deep breath. He was starting to scare himself.

He fetched a bottle of water and a bottle of beer and was joined by a pretty redhead. Dean flirted back almost out of habit and couldn’t help noticing her smell, comparing it to his brother’s.

He has never given it much thought before but girls had that sweet smell around them, soft and easy on the nose, it made him want to treat them gently, whisper sweet things into their ear, pick them up, put them on a bed and make love to them all night long.

The simple, honest thought of doing the same things to his brother, to Sam. To be close to him, to whisper into his ear, to squeeze him in his arms, to inhale his scent, to push him into bed –

_Jesus Christ, what am I thinking?_

 “You okay?”

The flirty voice of the sexy red-haired woman fished Dean out of his disturbing thoughts. Dean gave a tired nod and chugged down the newly opened beer.

This was exactly what Dean needed. A distraction. Something to divert his thoughts away from all the shit that’s been happening in his head.

“Hey sweetheart, how about we—“

He barely finished his sentence when Dean’s eyes landed on his brother. Sam was sitting on the table where he left him. Except he wasn’t alone.

Two men in black leather jacket and black pants were leaning over the table, close, a bit too close for Dean’s taste. Sam looked nervous. He smiled mindlessly while gazing over the counter, looking for Dean.

“We what, big boy? You wanna tell me?” The girl asks, tilting her head in an attempt to flirt, a finger twirling a stroll of hair.

“One second.” Dean says, lifting up one hand to fill the small space between their faces. He then quickly turned over and rushed towards Sam.

Sam’s face brightened at the sight of Dean approaching behind the big muscled man who has now made himself comfortable in Dean’s seat while the other was still leaning over the table.

“Dean!” Sam calls, his eyes screaming in relief. Dean stopped at their table and looked down at the two strangers.

“What’s going on here?”

The two men exchanged a quick glance, then shrugged like it’s none of Dean’s business. Dean’s hand formed a fist but Sam was quick to wrap his long fingers around his arm.

“It’s okay, Dean.” He says. “They’re just here to talk about the case."

“Let me guess” The guy occupying Dean’s previous seat said, a playful smile on his face. “Your boyfriend?” 

Dean cringed at the word. He never understood which part of him and Sam always made people jump to that conclusion.

“No, he's—“

“Yeah, right.” Dean quickly interrupts. “I’m _the_ boyfriend.”

He flashed a smirk and threw an arm over Sam’s shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. Sam’s body stiffened underneath his hold. Dean didn’t even want to know what was going through his head.

“Come, Sammy. Let’s go.”

Sam nodded and jumped off his seat. The moment he rose, the smell of hormones exploded like a bomb. Dean was caught by surprise but his hunter instinct drove him to pull Sam out of the door before anyone else could notice.

Dean has long heard of the struggle girls go through in fear of walking home alone at night, but he never shared that angst until he was walking alongside his brother and everyone around them turned heads like a bunch of hungry zombies.

“Dean!” Sam panicked, his scent overflowing twice as much as before. Dean was doing his best to hold his breath and inhale as little as possible. “Dean, wait!”

Sam snatched his arm away forcing his brother to stop.

“What the hell are you doing? We gotta get out of here, fast!”

Sam gave a quick glance left and right and then swallowed before opening his mouth.

“We can’t. Look.”

When Dean looked over at the parking lot where he left the Impala he noticed a group of men in black leathers strolling around. There was about five of them. Dean knew the two from earlier were with them. At this point, they had two choices. They either take them down or get to the motel on foot, but both choices were risky with Sam literally on _heat_.

“We walk.” Dean concluded, running out of options. “We don’t have a choice.”

“Or you help me get rid of it.” Sam calmly suggested.

Dean’s eyes stopped staring over at his car and settled on his brother. “I what?”

A faint blush covered Sam’s cheeks, his green eyes escaped to stare at his shoes. He looked like a five years old ready to make the most embarrassing confession.

“I need you to give me a hand, Dean.”

Dean went mute. For a second, he wished he heard wrong, but the words were as clear as daylight.

“Was that a _fucking_ pun?” Dean growled. “Because I’m not laughing.”

Sam’s cheeks gained a deeper shade of red and Dean’s breath was cut short.

He was _fucking_ serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are amazing, give me the best inspiration to write. Thank y'all!
> 
> Next update later this week.


	4. Chapter 4

Hidden from the public eye, Sam and Dean managed to sneak into a small alley. The least people around them the safer, and Dean was ready to make sure it stays that way until, well, _they take care of it._

Sam was leading the way and Dean was following behind. He might be doing a great job at keeping a straight face but his head was undergoing a general state of panic with one stuck sentence repeating itself over and over again.

_What the fuck is happening?_

Dean was still not exactly sure how he ended up agreeing on his brother's insane suggestion. Sam appeared so desperate he had to do something. Now he was a walking anxiety while Sam looked nothing but indifferent, his broad shoulders and tall figure slowly advancing two steps ahead from Dean, making sure to keep a fair distance for pheromone reasons, and Dean was dying to know how he managed it.

They moved past a couple homeless men – luckily asleep – and ended up in an empty road. Only then Dean decided to take a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air, swallowing his uneasiness and ready to face his brother who was turning his way.

The image of the Sam he imagined, self-assured and ready to wrap this up in the most mature way crumbled down into pieces the second they were face-to-face.

Emerald eyes glistening under the moonlight reflecting many emotions Dean has never seen lingering there before, vivid pink cheeks and reddened lips parted to drag air nervously, Sam was so tense he looked like he was ready to turn around and run off at any second.

“You okay?” Dean asks, eyes narrowing. He was right and Sam should've listened, this was a bad idea.

“Y-Yeah, I’m great.”

Sam's sweaty hands and trembling lips were more honest than his words.

Dean took a deep breath and exhaled. This wasn’t going to go well for either of them. He could tell from the way Sam was fidgeting in his place and the way his thumping chest was clearly containing a heart that was ready to burst out at any second that Sam was scared.

He hated to see him this way, so weak and vulnerable. It did things to Dean. Bad things.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks again, although a part of him was ready to say to hell with it and shove Sam right against that wall. “Look, we can still find another-"

"No, Dean. There's no other way."

Dean gave a displeased groan. 

"Then why the hell do you look like I'm about to eat you alive?" 

Sam made a weird noise and Dean didn’t even want to know what he was thinking.

“Pun not intended.” He quickly adds and Sam surprisingly laughs.

That innocent heart-warming laugh of his that always succeeds to ease up the tension between them. It was contagious and it reminded Dean of how far he’d go just to keep that smile on his brother’s lips, genuine and intact.

Then it hit Dean.

He was here, Sam was right in front of his eyes. Today and tomorrow and maybe for as far it goes, he will always wake up to him sharing the same cheap motel room and fighting over who’s taking a shower first. They would drive for hours and hours and tease, fight, complain and even separate but always get pulled back together again because that’s how dependent they became of each other.

Those simple things were what brought happiness to Dean. He never asked for anything else, just his Sammy smiling right back at him and for that smile to come right from his heart.

And to think he was about to step over that line and risk never seeing it ever again.

What was he thinking?

“Dean?”

Sam’s voice pulled Dean back to the harsh reality, where they were still standing face-to-face in the dark cold alleyway, hands in pockets and gazing at each other like they were awaiting a miracle, which at this point Dean started praying would happen.

“I can’t” Dean finally says. “I can’t do this, Sammy, I’m sorry.”

“What? But Dean—“

“You’re my brother, _dammit_!” Dean’s voice broke. His eyes couldn’t meet Sam’s anymore. His instincts were telling him to turn back and walk away. Fast.

But it was too late, Sam’s long fingers were already squeezing his forearm and stopping him. 

“Wait!” Sam calls with a hitching breath, Dean could feel his hand trembling against his forearm, sweaty and warm. “I know it’s wrong Dean but I need your help. Please.”

Sam was pleading and what more, he was using his final weapon that both brothers knew was crucial. Sam has gotten close, too close for that smell to invade Dean’s space like a whirlwind. No matter how hard his conscious fought to hold onto that last piece of reason that kicked in the back of his mind, the second Dean breaths in and that sweet aroma slides past his nose Dean's self-restriction would flush away and leaving room to nothing but pure instinct.

And that’s when Dean knew he was done for.

Right then he finds himself pushing Sam against the nearest wall and pressing his body against his, crushing him in between. Sam's body was radiating with heat, resulting on the pheromones to dissipate even further, and in just short seconds Dean was sinking in that heavenly odor.

“Dammit, Sammy, you smell so fucking good.” Dean growls, his hot breath grazing against his brother’s reddened ear.

Sam shivered at the heated contact, allowing a moan to escape his lips. His body was responsive, as if he was anticipating this for a long time. The way his hands slid underneath Dean’s jacket, tugging tightly on his shirt and calling his name over and over again, Sam was stepping clearly over the line and Dean could only welcome that with open arms, because at this point all he could think of was how good it would feel to be inside Sam.

Dean was scared, scared to watch as that part of him he managed to lock up inside all these years came into life, that part of him that always dreamed of holding Sam, kissing him, touching him and having him respond to every bit of it. That part Dean refused, despised and ignored. 

Now that part was breaking free and nothing could stop it anymore.

“Please, Dean. Touch me.” Sam moans into Dean's ear, resulting on a shiver down his spine.

He was aroused, and from the hunger displayed in his eyes Dean knew he wanted to be touched, felt and rubbed against. And if Dean looked even closer he could see a hint of a desire to go farther, a thing Dean's instincts were more than happy to oblige.

“Jesus, Sammy, what do you want me to do?” Dean breaths out, feeling his body burn with lust inside out.

He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to turn Sam around and fuck him against the wall until he's sore. He wanted to kiss his lips until they're swollen and numb. He wanted to drive Sam insane and watch him beg for more. He wanted to ravish his body in the sweetest way, to make him cry with pleasure then kiss those tears off his face and do it all over again.

Dean brushed his hips against Sams. He was hard and Dean could feel his erection throbbing from underneath his jeans, coming in contact with his own and resulting on a delicious friction.

“It feels good doesn’t it?” Dean whispers, his lips brushing against the back of his ear which Sam seemed to react to each time he licked that spot. Sam bites down on Dean’s jacket, muffling his moans and nodding repeatedly. “Jesus you’re rock hard down here.”

“Shut up.” Sam breathed out, which came out less defensive and more helpless than intended. He threw his head back against the wall and carried on indignantly grinding himself against Dean. His needy moans were getting more and more consistent and soon he was shamelessly dragging Dean closer, begging for more friction.

Sam’s hold tightened and his breath stopped the second Dean’s fingers found their way underneath his loose belt, sliding under his boxers and circling his fingers around the throbbing shaft. Dean could feel it pulse between his fingers, pre-come softening the tip as he dragged his thumb over it and started giving slow strokes.

Sam’s breathing picked up the pace, his moaning growing louder in the silent alley. At that point, Dean swore he’d kill anyone who’d happen to walk by and see his brother in his current state. Sam was in a haze, his eyes half-lid as he dragged as much breath as he managed, his lips were parted, soft-looking and tempting. Dean wanted to taste them, he wanted to plant his own against them and suck until Sam begs him to stop.

“Do it, Dean. Kiss me.”

The words shot through him like electricity. Sam’s eyes were right on him, a soft smile cornering his mouth, that mouth that looked so dangerously inviting. Once again, he has been seen through and Dean could only obey.

Dean dragged his free hand through Sam’s hair and leaned in close enough to graze his bottom lip against Sam's top one, and then he smelled it.

It was there. Very strong, very overwhelming and very alive.

Sam’s sweet scent that drove Dean over the edge, it was mixed with a faint odor of alcohol and the simple hint of it through Dean’s nose was enough to drive his mind blank. Dean pressed his lips into Sam’s and before he could think twice the words slipped out of his mouth.

“God, I want to fuck you, Sammy.” He whispered, his voice raw and raspy. “So hard and rough, it’ll drive you crazy.”

And that was it.

That was the last bit Sam could handle before throwing his head back, reaching his orgasm and coming all over Dean’s hand. Dean was left speechless at the sight of Sam barely supporting himself against the wall, his body a trembling mess.

“Sorry,” Sam apologizes, attempting to regulate his breath, clearly ashamed for releasing so fast. “I just couldn’t… After what you said...” He held his hands up to hide his face. “Jesus, Dean, I never thought you would dirty-talk me.”

Well Dean didn’t think he could either. In fact, he can’t believe what he just did.

Now that the hormonal smell faded away Dean was left with a mind full of why’s and how’s and dammit’s, and somewhere deep down a voice whispering:

_Congratulations, Dean, you just molested your little brother._

With a guilty heart hidden behind a perfectly neutral face, Dean managed to clean up the mess and buckle his brother's belt before pushing himself away from him. Sam’s eyebrows joined in confusion. He was still breathless, his chest going up and down as he lied still against the wall.

His eyes were fixed on Dean who didn’t add a word and quietly motioned towards the exit. Sam understood he was telling him to move. The entire way back to the parking area was full of drunkards, and Sam passed unnoticed.

Dean fell on the driver seat and gave a loud exhale. He put the key into ignition and started the car, then paused briefly to throw a glance towards his brother whose gaze has carved a hole into him.

“What?”

“Dude, you're just gonna sit down there looking like that?” Sam asked, eyes pointing at Dean’s crotch. “Let me give you a hand.” His hand suddenly rested on Dean’s thigh, driving his bulge to pulse underneath.

“Hey, okay there, slow down.” Dean raised his hands on each side, eyes on Sam’s hand then back on his face. “Look, you asked for a hand, I gave you it. Me? I'll be fine. We good?” 

Sam’s frown expanded. He looked both hurt and guilty. He was probably blaming himself again, well of course since Dean knew Sam excelled in the art of blaming himself for apparently everything.

Sam’s hand squeezed Dean’s thigh, sending another pulse into his bulge, then finally decided to withdraw.

“This…” Sam started. “Is this going to change anything?” Sam asked, holding back his voice from giving out. 

Dean blinked his way. He paused then parted his lips.

“Of course not.” He answers, his eyes setting on the road ahead. “You’re still my pain-in-the-ass-little brother.”

He snorted, trying to ease the tension with a little bit of humor, which of course failed since Sam didn’t speak a word for the rest of their trip back to the motel.

 

The next day Sam and Dean received a call from Bobby concerning a shapeshifter in the neighborhood. The beast has killed three victims so far and had kidnapped a fourth one day ago, Bobby's part of the job was done by the end of the call and Sam and Dean were left figuring out how to deal with the son of a bitch. Dean for once was glad he could put his messed-up thoughts aside and concentrate on something more concrete.

“I told you we should've asked around some more. We're not getting anywhere with this plan of yours, smartass.”

Dean was sitting inside the Impala, elbows on the wheel and leaning over it. A pair of binoculars in hand, Sam was sitting beside him eyeing the house's door for over an hour now.

“He’s not coming out,” Dean insists. Sam glanced through the binoculars one last time before abandoning them on his lap.

“He probably  sensed something and escaped through the back door.”

“All right, time's up, big boy. We're gonna get our asses back in town and play some more _True Detectives_.” Dean says, putting the key into ignition.

“Wait, wait, wait” Sam interrupts, his hand impulsively grabbing his brother’s thigh while he lifted the binoculars back into his vision. “He's here.”

The door of the house swung open and a tall teenager with blond hair came out. He waved his hand towards an older woman - certainly his mother - before he made his way down the street. His name was Mark, Bobby informed them earlier, and he has gone missing for a couple days, only to show up back home all of a sudden without a clear reason concerning his disappearance. Mark's friends and family has reported that in fact since his return Mark has been acting strange. Witnesses asking aside, Sam urged Dean to track the bitch down and now Dean was starting to wonder if he was really the one they're after.

“Follow him” Sam said, eyes fixed on the boy slowly making his distance. Dean cleared his throat to get Sam’s attention back on him, his eyes on his thigh Sam has been unintentionally squeezing. “Uh, sorry” He quickly released the grip, eyes dropping to his lap.

Dean didn’t bother reading his expression, the tone in his voice gave it away. Sam has been self-conscious around Dean since they first left the room earlier. He had to survive an awkward silence during breakfast and spend another uncomfortable hour inside the car before Dean decided to break the silence and start rumbling about their case.

The awkwardness lifted off eventually as Sam and Dean followed the might-be-a-shapeshifter around, at one point Sam started wondering if they have gotten the wrong guy and Dean was ready to blast his largest grin and shout _'Told you'_   when the teenager-suspect strayed from his path and was soon heading through the forest leading them to what looked like a beast's lair.

"Fine, you win this one." Dean rolled his eyes, hating to admit Sam was right all along.

The hunt went easier than planned. The shapeshifter was working alone and therefore as soon as they saved the _real_ Mark, Sam took it by surprise and Dean gave the final blow.

The Impala was later parked in front of Mark’s house, Sam was standing at the door talking to the mother who was still under shock after hearing what happened to her son. Dean was in the car, one hand on the wheel the other dialing Bobby’s number.

“You better be calling to tell me the son of a bitch is dead or I’m making you pay for interrupting my nap, boy.” Bobby’s voice announced from the other side.

“Napping at 7 PM? Really, Bobby?” Dean snorted.

“So I’m guessing that’s a yes. Good, now get your asses back to the motel and get some shut-eye, if I run across more cases nearby I’m not gonna give a rat’s ass if you’ve got bags under your eyes.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that.” Dean mumbled. He took a moment to clear his voice and Bobby grew suspicious.

“This isn't about the case, is it?” Bobby asked after a short period of silence.

Dean took a moment to eye Sam who was now smiling and thanking the woman who forced a bag of cookies into his hands. He opened his mouth, his lower lip twitching as he talked.

“I think I screwed up, Bobby.”

Bobby’s answer was a five seconds silence, then a long sigh followed by words spoken in a kinder tone.

“Get over to my place right now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shall take a moment to thank my Microsoft Word for crashing at least three times on me. Luckily I managed to retrieve Auto-saved parts. Thank you oh god of technology. 
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you had a good read, ahem, especially the smut part, also look forward to more coming up next week!  
> And thanks for the comments as always~


	5. Chapter 5

Bobby’s place was always a sight for sore eyes. The boys grew used to unwind and relax each time they set foot in the household, either to take time off from all the supernatural crap or just enjoy the taste of homemade meals and the warmth of a comfortable bed.

It felt like home, a place to come back to when life get stressful and things go wrong. And Bobby knew something was wrong the second the boys announced they were coming over without dragging an apocalypse after their asses.

Dean pushed the entrance door open, a set of six-pack in the right hand and his baby’s keys in the left, he had just finished checking the Impala and with a daily check-up here and there she was always ready to kick start.

Sam was in Bobby’s office, the two have been going through the books from Bobby’s basement looking for spells, incantations, weapons, anything that would help get rid of siren blood.

Six hours ago they made it to Bobby’s on time. The man has been expecting them, and since he wasn’t one to beat around the bushes, as soon as they sat their rears on the living room couch he had Dean spill it all out.

Of course Dean left the entire pheromones part out, with Sam’s stare burning through his skin he understood that was a red line and not even Bobby could handle the truth behind it. He winded up telling him about Sam’s chronic fevers –which was a truth – and asked the older man for advice.

Obviously, Bobby’s answer was: _Roll up those sleeves and dig up through the shelves._ And so they did.

“Found anything?” Dean asks, walking into the office and setting the beer pack on Bobby’s wooden desk.

Bobby slowly lifted up his eyes towards him and nodded to the left. Dean turned his head to catch sight of Sam sleeping on the couch in the corner of the room, an open book in hand. He seemed to have fallen asleep while reading.

“Boy’s worn out. Looks like he didn’t get any sleep in days.” Bobby noticed. “The hell you two been doing lately anyway?”

Dean stretched his hand to grab two bottles, opened them and offered one to Bobby before falling down on the closest armchair and sipping out of his own.

“Tracking down a damn shapeshifter based on nothing but a guess ain’t easy Bobby, I give you that.”

Dean watched Bobby roll his eyes and adjust himself in his seat. He was in the middle of a book he decided to put on hold for the moment.

“Cut the crap. We both know you’ve done worse jobs.” Bobby sighed and shook the bottle in his hand, eying the liquid before gulping it down. “You two are fighting, aren’t you? Think I wouldn’t notice?”

Dean’s eyes escaped to the windows and Bobby just mumbled “Idiot.”

“It’s tiring Bobby.” Dean said after a minute of contemplation. The weather outside was gloomy, cloudy skies and grey shaded scenery that reflected Dean’s mood. “Being a big brother is damn tiring, man.”

“Say what now?” Bobby snorted. “Want a brother of the year award? Jesus boy, suck it up. You two have always had each other. Don’t start whining about it now.”

“I know, Bobby. I know!” Dean spat almost harshly, he then forwarded his gaze back towards the windows. Bobby was starting to wonder if he was falling in love with the ugly curtains. “I just need some time you know, a couple days to clear my head. Maybe Sam can help around, keep digging to find a cure—“

“You’re setting him up, aren’t you?” Bobby interrupted, putting the empty bottle aside and reaching out for a second serve. Dean’s eyes went back to his lap and Bobby wanted to slap him for not looking him in the eyes when asking for help.

“Fine, you do that.” He finally said. “You go do your thing I’ll keep an eye on little brother over here. But make it short, I don’t like playing babysitters and we both know Sam’s way too old for that.”

Dean’s eyes lifted up to rest on Bobby. Bobby wanted to shout _Finally_. He took a deep breath and showed an honest smile that Bobby grew so used to see.

“You’re fucking welcome.” Bobby muttered almost instantly, saving Dean the trouble to make this session any more awkward.

Dean’s eyes flew back towards Sam, he looked both worried and relieved. If there was one thing Bobby never understood, it’s how their relationship works. They fight, they hurt each other, they whine like little brats and when it comes to speaking up their honest feelings cat suddenly gets their tongue.

Deciding not to meddle with what didn’t concern him, Bobby watched Dean leave for the kitchen and picked up where he left with the book.

 

Sam opened his eyes to a bright room. Clean ceiling and a comfortable couch, smell of homemade food slipping past his nose and reminding him where he was. During the past couple years Bobby’s house has become a second home to him and he never thanked Bobby enough for keeping the doors wide open for them no matter the numerous shit they dragged along during the past couple years.

Feeling a light weight crushing his stomach Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly and picked up the five hundred pages book left on his lap. Falling asleep in the middle of reading wasn’t like him. But then, being too nervous to fall asleep around Dean wasn’t like him either.

His feet touched the cold floor and he stood up and strolled towards the kitchen, the smell of food was starting to water his mouth. Bobby was cooking eggs and cheese and a small clang was heard, announcing the freshly toasted bread.

“You’re early.” Sam said at the sight of Bobby standing in front of the oven.

“More like late,” Bobby answered, turning over to face the boy. “Planning to take a nap in five.”

“Wait, you didn’t sleep?” Sam blinked in surprise. “Go right now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Will do.” Bobby picked up the eggs and cheese sandwich, put it on a plate and walked to Sam. “There’s coffee too. Eat first, work later.” He handed Sam the plate and walked out of the kitchen, dragging a yawn out when he heard Sam calling for him.

“Bobby?” Sam said, his voice holding a slight hint of guilt that sent Bobby wondering what was running through that complex mind of his. "Where's Dean?”

Bobby didn’t answer right away, instead he scratched his belly and directed the fingers towards his nose. He needed a shower.

“Yeah, he left this morning.” Bobby answered. “Said he needed some time off from hunting, told him a buddy of mine could use his hand with some car-fixing.”

Bobby gave Sam a concerned look as he could read the words written on that innocent pained face of his. Of course he was upset, Dean dropped him off like a bag of dirt and drove off somewhere else instead of facing Sam with the truth. But what does Bobby know? Maybe there was more to the story which is why he prefers to keep his mouth shut.

With a helpless nod Sam showed a soft smile and turned his back to him, adding scoops of sugar into his drink although Bobby knew he was only trying to hide his face.

“Thanks for breakfast, Bobby. Oh and you better turn that nap into a good hours sleep, you definitely need it.”

Bobby wasn’t going to argue with that. He was beat, and he could do with days of sleep after pulling off an all-nighter. He hated to remind himself but he was getting older.

After watching him stroll off to his bedroom, Sam picked up the cup of coffee and headed back to the office. He comfortably settled in Bobby’s chair and put a dozen books on the desk swearing to finish them by night.

Sam carried on checking his phone for the rest of the day. He was holding on to the hope that maybe Dean would feel bad for leaving him behind and call to apologize, but oh how wrong he was.

Two days flew by and Sam’s phone hasn’t rung once. Sam wasn’t worried since he caught Bobby on a call with him at least twice. He was reachable, he was safe, yet he chose to stay away from him, away from Sam.

“I think I got it.” Bobby announced one morning in the middle of his reading.

Apparently the man has found a cure in an old witchcraft book buried deep in his basement, the instructions explained how to make a potion that could help get rid of the oxytocin in a siren’s body, in this case Sam’s body. Obviously, the ingredients were out of their reach, and once again they had to call for the help of that one friend who happens to always come in handy.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Castiel announced reassuringly after hearing about Sam’s misfortune. He was standing in the middle of Bobby’s office alone with Sam while Bobby was in the basement, swearing he had stored some siren blood somewhere in there, which was the first ingredient for the potion.

“Thanks, Cass. You’re a life saver.” Sam showed a relieved smile, ready to see the angel off, but Castiel wasn’t showing any sign of leaving yet.

Instead, the angel took a couple steps towards Sam, and Sam was about to make a remark about personal space when Castiel’s words caught him by surprise.

“You smell different, Sam.”

Sam froze in place. How could it have slipped his mind? Castiel was a damn angel, of course he’d notice.

Bobby burst into the office with a big grin and a bloodied bottle in hand.

“Told you I had it somewhere.” Bobby said, looking over at the two men standing in the middle of the room. “Something’s up?”

His eyes fixed Castiel and Sam knew he was wondering why he was still here. Castiel barely parted his lips when Sam interrupted him.

“Cass was just asking about Dean, told him he was helping that friend of yours.” He blurted out, hoping he wasn’t digging himself a deeper grave.

“Dean’s gone?” Cass repeated, eyes narrowing now suspiciously.

“Haven’t heard of it? Boy, you sure missed out on a lot.” Bobby snorted, bringing the bottle to his desk and wiping off the tip of his fingers on his jeans.

Sam wanted to turn around and leave the office before any of the two let something slip and turn this into an even more embarrassing and awkward situation as it already is. Castiel knew, and Sam was sure of it now that he was burning a hole through him with his intense stare.

“Sam. Can I talk to you for a second?”

Cass’s question sounded more like an order. With a swift turn, the angel left to the living room leaving Sam and Bobby behind. Bobby’s eyebrows were raised in curiosity but chose not to say a word. Sam took the chance to escape after Cass.

When they exited to the porch Cass stopped and turned to face Sam. Sam was nervous and sweat has already started dripping down his forehead.

“I’m not sure you realize it, Sam, but your body is emanating a great amount of sexual hormones. It must be a side-effect to the unfortunate occurrence you had with the siren.” Cass explained, eyes kindly resting on Sam.

Sam looked down at his feet, quietly swallowing the awkwardness away.

“You knew.” Cass concluded, eyes suddenly widening. “It’s the reason why Dean left. He’s keeping his distance, isn’t he?” He took a deep breath, eying the slightly open door to make sure Bobby was nowhere nearby. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

“I forced him to help me.” Sam confessed, eyes still glued to his shoes. “I was tipsy, the smell got strong, there were people around so I told him he had to help me…take care of it.”

Cass’s expression didn’t change. He just carried on looking calmly at Sam whose guilt started playing turns on his chest. He wasn't damn proud of what he did, after all, it was all his fault that Dean has only gotten farther and farther away.

“He didn’t say where he's gone?”

Sam turned his back to Cass and took a deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. The weather outside was warm but a chilly wind caressed Sam’s sweaty forehead every now and then, reminding him that the end of the summer was near.

“Bobby knows. I heard them talk at night when I’m supposed to sleep. But Bobby doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he thinks we’re just having one of our usual fights.”

“Listen, Sam.” Cass started, a hand coming to rest on Sam’s left shoulder. “This isn’t your fault and neither Dean’s. I will help you with this, I promise.”

Sam nodded, feeling peaceful inside now that he shared this with someone. It started to weight on him and he had to let it out. Before he could manage to thank the angel the man was gone in the flash of a second leaving Sam standing alone in the front porch of the house.

Sam inhaled, bringing fresh air to his lungs. He was feeling slightly better now that he got it out of his system. He gently closed the door behind and made his way back to the living room passing by Bobby’s office. He was supposed to have dinner and sleep, letting Bobby take care of the rest. But by the time he was done licking the delicious taste of stew Bobby has made for him off his lips Sam heard Bobby’s voice reach him from the office room.

“He’s in Rufus’s cabin.”

Sam was standing across from him, facing the office door that gave directly on Bobby’s desk where he was lying, legs on the wooden surface. Bobby was looking straight at him.

“What?” Is all Sam could manage.

“You heard me.” Bobby sighed. “I swear to god, you two are the whiniest little brats I ever came across. You face those freaking monsters like your life depends on it, you save people, end the goddamn apocalypse but when it comes to the two of you, you suddenly lose your shit.”

Sam blinked in surprise. He didn’t think Bobby’s view of them was this, well, _real_.

“Bobby, me and Dean, we’re not—“

“Fighting? Balls.” He threw his feet back on the ground and closed his book. “I know the two of you since you were kids. Think I wouldn’t notice when you’re having a chick-flick moment? Save it for someone else boy, now get your ass out of my property and go find that stupid brother of yours before I drag you there myself.”

Sam wanted to open his mouth and protest, explain to Bobby that this wasn’t his fault but Dean’s for running away without a proper excuse, but instead he found himself standing up and doing as told.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah right.” Bobby sighed and heard the front door close shut behind as Sam left. “Rufus, wherever you are, bet you’re having a fine time watching your ol' partner turn into a couple therapist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written and rewritten this a couple times as I wasn't very pleased with the result. I'm having a very difficult time in my life right now and I am struggling to not let it affect my writing. So I apologize if this chapter appears to be shorter compared to the past ones. Hopefully I'll manage to write the ending (which is for soon) and do a good job of it.
> 
> Thank you for your amazing support, people.


	6. Chapter 6

Two hours since he hit the road. Two hours of driving along the highway, watching as the street lights disappeared announcing his leave from the city. 

A droplet of cold sweat found its way down Sam's temple. He could feel his veins thump systematically in sync with his heartbeats, his mind racing at the thought of meeting Dean in a couple minutes. At some point he simply shut it down, leaving himself with nothing but heavy breathing and stressed eyes fixed on the never-ending road.

A couple hours ago, Bobby was persistent on having him take his truck. He was thankful the older man was not only landing him a helping hand, but he was also sparing him the questions since obviously at this point Bobby was more than just convinced that something was going on.

The road stretched farther ahead, farther than his eyesight. Just a couple more, a couple more miles and Sam will be facing his brother.

Hands on the wheel, tongue trailing over his dry lips, Sam was ready. If there was anything he was sure of, is that today he was facing Dean, no matter the consequences. 

It might break their brotherhood, ruin their relationship, but Sam can’t back off now. The best case scenario would be Dean avoiding him for a couple days and then get back to how they were before, worst case on the other hand would be for those days to turn into months and then years and Dean probably never wishing to see Sam’s face ever again.

Sam’s foot lightly stamped on the brakes, slowing down the engine. As the car drove quietly through the welcoming road in between the trees and bushes he was able to see the small wooden cabin sheltered in the middle of the woods, Rufus’s cabin.

His feet stepped over a carpet of dry leaves as he climbed out of the car. He shut the door loud enough to announce his arrival. His heartbeats picked up their pace, sweat drenching the collar of his shirt, yet he never felt so ready.

His hand landed on the cabin’s wooden door, a long air slipping into his lungs before was pushing it open. His eyes scanned the room as it became visible with the creaking door opening in front of him, and by the time he dragged his feet over the doorstep a heavy load collided against him and Sam was violently sent to the ground.

At first Sam thought he was being attacked, caught weapon-less. But as soon as he realized the glistening emerald greens and spiky hair of the man that tackled him down, Sam drew his hands up in a defensive manner, a short gasp slipping past his lips.

“Dean! Dean, it’s just me!”

Dean had one hand curled tightly around Sam’s collar, the other pointing a gun to his head. It took a second or two, before his expression switched from aggressive to surprised.

“Sam?” He called, withdrawing his gun and sliding it back into his pocket before stretching out a hand to his brother. “The hell you doing here?”

Sam adjusted the collar of his shirt and held Dean’s hand, pulling himself up back on his feet. Only then, did Sam took a good look around the small space his brother was sheltered in. From the look of it, Dean was spending his time in front of TV watching one of those cheesy soap operas. Bottles of beer, mostly empty, were spread all over the table. Half of a hamburger was abandoned there as well, Dean was obviously leaving it for later.

Dean fell back on the couch, throwing his feet over the small table. He fixed Sam with a nonchalant gaze, holding a hint of unpleasantness, then quickly glanced back over at the TV. He was obviously bothered by his arrival.  

“So, why are you here?” Dean spat again. His green orbs fixed Sam’s with such intensity it sent his heartbeats back into haste. But Dean never held eye-contact for too long, because soon again, he was glancing back at the soap Opera that was nearing the end. 

“I thought I could check on you.” Sam replied, although the truth was Sam couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer. His heart clenched around itself, hating how Dean was looking at anything but him. “Bobby said you’d be here.”

Dean rolled his eyes, certainly blaming himself for calling Bobby and informing him of his location. He picked up the controller and swiftly changed channels to a documentary one.

“Any new leads?” He asked after a long silence.

“We found a cure.” Sam announced, his heart skipping a beat at the hopeful look that suddenly showed on Dean’s face. “It’s a potion, we still need the ingredients and all, but we're having Cas work on it.”

“Was about fucking time.” Dean muttered, dragging a long exhale. He looked like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Why did you leave, Dean?” Sam's words slipped out right away, breaking the awkwardness that has been settling between them since Sam walked in. 

Sam was ready to get this over with. It was about time Dean knew. 

“Bobby sent me on an—“

“Errand? I’m not buying it.” Sam calmly responded. “You left just like that, out of nowhere. You didn’t even call.”

“Look, I’ve been tracking down a vampire nest in the neighborhood. I didn’t tell Bobby, and I definitely didn’t tell _you_ because you can’t hunt in your state, so forgive me if I don’t have time to call and ask about the weather.”

“Except that you did have time to call Bobby every single night when you two made sure I was asleep.” Sam replied dryly, teeth gritting in irritation. “Like I said Dean. Not buying it.”

Dean’s body stiffened. He squeezed one of the empty bottles in his palm and looked back at the TV. The show has ended and there was a whole bunch of ads coming up. The silence that settled afterward seemed like lasting forever. Until Dean decided to abandon the bottle on the table and push himself off the couch, making his way to the fridge.

Sam was silently sitting on the armchair, watch Dean on the other side of the room who was grabbing another bottle of beer, pulling the cap off. 

Dean usually shares a beer with him. But not this time. And Sam felt a sting in his chest at the thought.

It scared Sam not to be able to see through him, to read through his thoughts. It was pure torture having to wait for him to finish the entire bottle before he finally decides to break the heavy silence.

“I’m sick of this… Whatever this is.” Dean said, facing the window. His back was turned to Sam yet his refection was clear on the window glass. “I’m disgusting Sam. I’m seriously disgusting and I can’t be around you with that in mind.”

“What are you talking about?” Was Sam’s impulsive answer. Of all the scenarios that went through his head, Dean putting all the blame on himself was the least he expected.

Dean didn’t answer, instead he leaned further with his palms pressed to the window sides, his head dropped lower and Sam could hear him inhale deeply and exhale. He was nervous.

“Dean?” Sam’s brows raised in worry. He barely shifted to stand up from his armchair when Dean's growl reached him.

“Sit down!” He shouted, his head lifted up to glance at Sam through the window glass. “Don’t you dare come close, Sammy. Not until we figure this out.”

“Dean.” Sam protested, ignoring his brother’s warning and taking a further step towards him. “It’s okay. Look, It’s not your fault. Look at me.”

Dean wasn’t showing any sign of cooperation until Sam whispered a “Please” and then he finally pushed himself off the windows and turned his body around.

And that’s when Sam saw it.

Dean’s eyes bearing that huge load of guilt and regret, dark shadows lingering in those emerald greens, Sam couldn’t believe this. Dean was honestly blaming himself for everything, and he was serious about it.

Now that Sam has taken few closer steps he could see the bags clearly underneath his eyes. Sam wasn’t the only sleep-deprived one these past few days. His brows were pushed together as if trying to hold back the last bit of emotions to avoid breaking down completely.

“Stay away, Sam.” Dean repeated, his voice sounding anything but threatening. It was soft, broken, ripped of its rawness.

“Why? Why should I stay away?” Sam pushed further, aligning his body with Dean’s and taking the moment to catch Dean’s attention and keep it on him. It felt so good to have those eyes on him and him alone. “Is it because of what I made you do, is that it? Because I forced you to touch me the other day? I know it was wrong and if anyone’s disgusting here, it’s me, Dean.”

“The hell you talking about?” Dean spouted, eyes spreading open.

“I’m talking about the day I used the pheromones to lure you. Dean, it wasn’t you, it was me. I made you do it because I knew it was the only way to get you… to get you to touch me.”

Sam couldn’t maintain the eye contact any longer. He gazed to the side where the TV was still on, now an old-school romantic movie was playing. He brought a hand to run through his hair and took a deep breath before meeting Dean’s eyes again. He lifted up his hands to the side and showed a helpless smile.

“I don’t care if it’s wrong.” He said. “It felt right for me. The way you…” Sam’s cheeks brightened yet for the first time he managed to maintain a fixed intense stare on his brother as he spoke his honest mind. “The way you kissed me, Dean. It felt right.”

Dean’s expression was unreadable at first. He kept a neutral face, that of someone thinking through what the other has just said, but then he quickly raised a finger up in the air and a breathless laugh escaped his lips.

“No. No, no way.” Dean mumbled fast, moving his feet around the room, hoping walking back and forth would work some miracle on him. “This must be a joke.”

“Dean—“

“Shut up! Do you even hear yourself?” Dean shouted, his voice loud enough to send Sam back into silence. “I took advantage of you, Sam. No matter what you say, no matter what you make yourself believe, it won’t change the fact that I… Fuck!”

Dean stopped at the TV displaying the two main characters making out and with frustration, he slammed his hand on top of the device, shutting it off temporarily. When he looked him over, Sam noticed his cheeks have gained a faint shade of red.

Something burned inside Sam as the realization hit him. Sam was angry at himself, and the reason behind his anger was that indescribable desire he was developing for Dean, but to think that Dean, too, might be going through the same-

Damn it, how could he have been so blind?

At that moment his breath halted and his feet moved on their own. It only took him a hand movement, one soft caress landing on Dean’s cheek to send those walls that separated them crumbling down.

Dean’s lips parted, readying a protest that Sam shut down by pressing his heated lips against.

After that, words were no longer needed.

He was experiencing the taste of his brother for the first time with an entirely sober mind. The feel of his blood heating at the simple touch of Dean, their tongues melting as soon as they came into contact, their bodies colliding, twisting and turning to give and take, to share. They were driving each other breathless and by the time Sam was forced to pull back for air, his shirt’s collar was squeezed and he was shoved against the wall.

Dean’s face was buried into his neck, feeling his brother's hasty breath ghost against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Sam gasped when large cold hands covered his sides and started slowly feeling him up. Dean placed an open-mouth kiss on his neck, rejoicing to the lustful moan Sam emitted.

Dean was sober, and so was Sam. They were touching each other willingly, and if anything this made Sam want to hold his brother tight and beg him to never let go ever again.

“Dean-“ Sam called breathlessly, and Dean obediently pulled back to meet his eyes. They shared an eye-contact, short and meaningful and then Sam found himself losing track of what he was supposed to think or say, and once again he was claiming those red-blood lips that fitted so perfectly against his.

It felt good, it tasted good. Tongues in heat and mixed saliva, it was all too overwhelming. Sam’s hands were soon resting on Dean’s chest, clenching around his collar and forcing him backwards. Feet moved and bodies tangled, tripping and ending up on the couch. A breathless laugh was heard and the brothers’ eyes met in silence.

Dean raised a hand to rest his fingertips over Sam’s cheek, tracing slightly down his perfect jawline. His emerald greens were taking in every bit of Sam’s features as if it was the very first time he laid eyes on them.

“Sammy.” Dean softly called, watching as Sam’s face lightened up with a happy childish smile. “Are you sure about this? It’s okay to not want to, you know-“

“Oh shut up, Dean.” Sam nearly breathed out, his cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.” He confessed, eyes softening as he pressed the tip of his nose against Dean’s. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Jesus, could you get any cheesier?”

Dean let out a breathless laugh and soon he was dragging his arms around Sam’s hips, pulling him comfortably on top of his chest. Their lips met in silence and Dean pushed himself off the couch, carrying Sam’s weight on top of him.

His hands tugged on each side of his jacket and soon Dean was peeling it off his shoulders along with his striped shirt. He muttered a curse at the sight of the T-shirt and undershirt that magically appeared underneath.

“What are you, a goddamn onion?” Dean growled, hands craving to unravel his brother’s bare skin already.

Sam laughed softly at the comment, barely losing his balance when Dean grabbed both sides of the last two layers of clothing and pulled them off at once.

“Wow, easy there.” Sam panted as he was pulled back against Dean’s chest. “Wait, let me take off your-“

“Fuck that.” Dean interrupted as he stole Sam’s lips for another kiss.

Dean flipped them over and Sam heard him curse at the camped couch. He had to throw his hands around Dean’s neck, legs tangling with his, bodies squeezing in the small space to share their heat.

“There’s a bed two steps away, Dean.” Sam reminded once their lips parted and each of them was attempting to drag air into their lungs.

“You think I can handle waiting another second?”

Dean moved his leg to fit in between Sam’s, knee bumping against his crotch on the process and extracting a low groan out of his brother.

“Oh fuck- Dean. That felt good, do it again.”

Sam started breathing faster by the time Dean was rubbing his knee against his tented crotch, feeling the bulge forming underneath his jeans grow bigger by the second. Meanwhile Sam was struggling to get his brother out of his t-shirt, it eventually got stuck around his head as Dean was too busy landing wet warm kisses down his bare chest.

“Wait- Dean, your shirt-“

Sam’s protests weren’t heard right away, Dean who was apparently too distracted by his brother’s body, taking his sweet time dragging his lips over every inch of his revealed skin, tongue grazing against the sensitive areas that sent Sam to tug on the t-shirt, slightly chocking his brother on the process. Dean finally decided to slip his head out of the collar and try not to lose it at the hopeful expression that Sam showed by the time his eyes landed on his naked body.

“Jesus, Dean…”

“Like what you see?”

Dean couldn’t help feeling pride whenever Sam looked up at him that way, except that this time that pride was mixed with a desire, a desire to be wanted and needed by his little brother and it was being fulfilled with every glance he was receiving, every stare that landed on his body and every touch Sam was dying to have.

Sam’s large hands settled on Dean’s chest, nails gently grazing down his stomach to land on his jeans. That’s when his hazel green eyes flicked up to hold Dean’s gaze as his fingers worked on unfastening his belt.

Once the belt was unbuckled and the buttons undone, Dean’s hand came to briefly interrupt Sam.

“Are you sure...?” His tone held a hint of hesitance but Sam looked anything but hesitant, instantly slapping Dean’s hand off his.

“Am I sure I want to suck you off? Hell yes.” Sam blurted out, cheeks flushing. “Did you really have to make me say that out loud? Dude, it’s embarrassing.”

Dean’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he forced himself down, head tilting to the side to fit his mouth perfectly against Sam’s, his nose softly burying into his cheek as they shared a passionate kiss. Sam’s hand moved further, fingers dipping underneath the last layer of underwear that separated him from his erection.

Dean bucked forward, sticking his length in Sam’s hand as Sam’s wrist twisted along to give it small strokes. The jolt of pleasure sent his head back in the air, Dean might have received many hand-jobs but god did Sam’s large palm feel so different, so pleasuring, working pure magic on him.

And when he thought it couldn’t get better, Sam’s palms clutched his ass and he was taking all of Dean inside his mouth.

“Holy-“

Dean’s curse was interrupted halfway by a groan that abruptly escaped his throat. The warmth of Sam’s mouth and his burning tongue skilfully grazing against his cock was sending shivers of pleasure up and down his spine. He was soon dragging a hand behind his brother’s head, grasping his locks and thoroughly plunging deeper inside his mouth.

Sam’s bulge twitched once Dean hit the back of his throat, feeling himself nearly chocking on the shaft. Dean’s voice was heard, warning for release but Sam wasn’t willing to pull back anytime soon, head bobbing back and forth as he was moaning, sending vibrations through his brother’s erection, feeling him twitch on top of him. The fast panting and the cursing that followed announced Dean’s release, and Sam, mouth open, his brother’s cock all the way in, groaned at the white liquid that shot down his throat, the strange new experience ending up with his body acting up, sending sweet soft sensations that translated to a huge load of pleasure spreading all over his entire body.

“Oh god-“ Dean panted, dragging harsh breath into his lungs and trying to ease his breathing after the best orgasm he ever had. “You okay?”

His eyes fell back on Sam whose mouth slowly slipped from around his swollen shaft, his long locks were falling over his features, bright cheeks hiding underneath and hazel green that held a strange hint of confusion once they met Dean.

“I think I just came with you fucking my mouth.” Sam blurted out, eyes still stretched wide open as if he still couldn’t believe what just happened.

Dean didn’t need to look lower, he could feel Sam’s wet boxers underneath and to think his brother couldn’t surprise him anymore, well he was damn wrong.

“Sam. Get your ass to the bed. Now.”

And that was the only warning Dean gave before he was dragging Sam naked around the cabin, shoving him into the small bedroom and slamming the door shut behind.

That was just the beginning of one hell of a night.

 

It was early in the morning when Sam’s phone rang. He was asleep, lying in bed next to his brother, head resting on the pillow and nose brushing against the crook of Dean’s neck. None of the brothers dared move to answer the call. They were both awake, yet eyes closed, bodies entangled, warmth shared, it just felt right, and neither wanted this to end.

“Sam. Dean.”

The voice caught Sam by surprise, as he pushed himself off the bed with a fast motion, Dean, on the other hand, was quicker to draw a gun out from under his pillow, pointing it at whomever just appeared in the room.

“Cas?” Dean yelled, eyes shot at the sight of none other than the angle standing at their bed’s foot.

“Hi, Dean.” Cas quietly greeted, his eyes taking in the situation he just walked into.

A sudden awkward silence fell. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look, eyes resting on the angel who just stood there for long minutes before he opened his mouth and decided to speak.

“So I assume you two-“

“Shut up, Cas. Just… Shut up.” Dean interrupted, eyes falling back on Sam whose face was barely visible under his hair locks that purposely fell over to hide his blood-red cheeks.

Sam’s feet landed on the floor as he stood up. He mumbled something about taking a shower and quickly left for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I swear to god Cas, next time you come in without a warning, I’m kicking your ass all the way back to heaven.” Dean growled, catching his shirt and throwing it over his head as he stood up and attempted to slide back into his jeans. “You better have a good reason for being here.”

“I have gathered the ingredients and Bobby and I have successfully formed the potion cure for Sam.” Castiel replied, eyes fixed on the man as he raised a small bottle in front of him.

“Cure?” Dean repeated, remembering Sam saying something about talking Cas into this.

Castiel walked two steps closer to the man, putting the potion into the palm of his hand as a soft smile traced his lips.

“I believe you can take care of the rest, Dean.” Castiel said, and before Dean could open his mouth to protest, the angel was gone.

Dean was left there in the middle of the cabin room, eyes on the small bottle filled with a blood-tinted liquid. For a second, he was ready to rush to the bathroom, bang on the door and announce the good news to his little brother, but Sam was faster and with a clack of the bathroom door, the taller brother was announcing his return to the bedroom.

Messy hair and flushed cheeks, his hazel green eyes scanned the room briefly before he decided it was safe enough to step out.

“Cas is gone?”

“Yeah.” Dean answered. 

Sam exhaled loudly in relief, his feet moving back around the room, approaching Dean as his eyes were now fixed on his.

“What did he want? Is it about the cure?”

Dean didn’t answer, instead, he squeezed the flask in his palm, shaking it under Sam’s nose, a smirk covering his lips. Sam’s face brightened, hand already moving to grasp the bottle when Dean moved it away from his grip. 

“Not so fast, princess.” Dean’s lips stretched into a smirk and Sam blinked in confusion. “Nothing comes without a price.”

“Dean. This was Cas and Bobby’s doing, if there’s anyone I should pay, it’s them.” Sam answered, rolling his eyes in disbelief. 

“Maybe.” Dean murmured, invading Sam’s space to throw an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Their hips pressed together and Dean allowed his lips to graze Sam's ear, purring softly into it. 

"There's one last thing I want to try with this curse of yours.”

A soft, erotic noise escaped Sam's throat at both the feeling of Dean's breath caressing his sensitive ear and the very words he spoke. Heat rose through his body, cheeks gaining a deep shade of red. Sam wasn't given much of a choice since soon enough he was being gripped tightly by the hips and pushed backwards towards the bed.

"You're a pervert." Sam managed against his lips as his back hit the bed, bouncing softly on top of it, feeling excitement rush over at the sight of Dean's body craw over on top of him, those green eyes promising what's best. Yet as soon as Dean's lips aimed for a kiss, Sam's fingers came in contact with them. "By the way, Dean, you didn't answer my question yet."

Dean growled underneath his breath, eyes annoyingly glancing down towards Sam, desiring nothing but to take him right now.

"What again?" 

"The smell... What is it like?" Sam curiously questioned, spreading his legs to allow Dean to fit into the space in between. He reached his arms out, lacing them around his brother's neck.

Dean didn't answer right away. His head tilted to the side, leaning over. He buried his nose into the crook of Sam's neck, took his time to inhale deeply before he finally parted his lips to answer.

"Like heaven" was all he said before planting his lip's to Sam, making sure the next thing that came out of that mouth was none other than a moan.

 

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever, I know, and I apologize for taking so long.   
> I have lost my writing mood for a while, but as soon as it came back I went back to working on this. Finally managed to finish it up!
> 
> Thank you for keeping up with the ride, and most of all I hope you enjoyed it.


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